


destinies untold

by blazeofglory



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lost Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Strained Relationships, it's a post-season four vibe but in an AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 17:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: Oceanic Flight 815 goes down with Flint and Silver on board.“How will anyone find us?” Silver muses aloud, eyes trained on the starry sky and not on the man next to him. They’ve been holding off on this conversation for days, while Flint’s been busy trying to ensure their survival and Silver’s been attempting to recover from his injuries sustained in the crash. “We all know what the pilot said before he died. By the time the plane went down, we were a thousand miles off course… They don’t know where to look.”





	destinies untold

“Someone will come for us,” Flint says softly, passing Silver a bottle of water as he settles down next to him in the sand. He sits close, just an inch away, but he doesn’t even let his knee bump Silver’s. It’s a far cry from the way they used to be, always so sure of each other, never faltering for a second. Flint used to know Silver better than he knew himself.

Maybe it’s the shock, or maybe the fear, or maybe the exhaustion-- something in Silver makes him shift just a little, ‘til their sides are pressed together. Flint freezes for a split second, then relaxes, leaning heavily into Silver’s shoulder.

“How will anyone find us?” Silver muses aloud, eyes trained on the starry sky and not on the man next to him. They’ve been holding off on this conversation for days, while Flint’s been busy trying to ensure their survival and Silver’s been attempting to recover from his injuries sustained in the crash. “We all know what the pilot said before he died. By the time the plane went down, we were a thousand miles off course… They don’t know where to look.” 

Flint sighs heavily and Silver drinks the tepid water, and they’re quiet for a few moments. Still, all around them, there’s a constant thrum of noise-- waves crashing against the shore, the voices of their fellow survivors down the beach, the crackle of their signal fire burning, and something else, something almost ominous coming from deep in the jungle, something that Silver doesn’t know how to name. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“They’ll search for us,” Flint insists after a while. “It’s only been a few days, we can’t give up hope yet.” 

“I suppose,” Silver mutters. “It’s just our luck, isn’t it? The way things have been going, I’m hardly surprised this happened to us.”

Flint snorts a humorless laugh. “You always did want to go on a tropical vacation.”

“So we’re going to pretend like everything is fine?” Silver asks, voice sharp. He feels Flint’s eyes on him, but he still doesn’t look. He doesn’t want to know what he’d do if he looked at Flint’s face right now-- he might do something truly stupid, like kiss him, and where would that leave him? There’s only so much that he can blame on shock and fear and exhaustion. “It hasn’t even been a _week_ since-- since everything.”

“What’s the point?” Flint asks, sounding tired beyond his years. There it is, the Flint that Silver’s been living with for the past few months. These past days, Flint has been strong and confident and, and-- reminding Silver every fucking hour of every day why he fell in love with him. He hasn’t felt that in so long; before the crash, it had just been _this_ , just exhaustion and resignation and endless fighting. Flint makes an exasperated sound, then says, “We’re stuck here together, I don’t see why we have to fight.”

Silver wants to stand up and pace, but when he so much as twitches his leg, the pain is too much to bear and he sucks in a sharp breath. The fear spikes again-- there is a very real possibility that help may not be coming and he may never get to a hospital. He may never walk again. They may have to amputate his fucking leg on this goddamn island with little to no medical supplies, a veterinarian instead of a doctor, he might _die_ \--

“I’ll fetch Howell--”

“Don’t,” Silver cuts in, voice tight with pain, grabbing Flint’s sleeve and holding tight with a white-knuckled grip. “Don’t you leave me.”

“I won’t,” Flint says softly, a whisper almost lost to the waves and the wind. It tugs something in Silver’s heart, a deep, guilty _ache_ that makes his chest almost too tight to breathe. Tears spring to his eyes, wholly unrelated to the searing pain in his leg. Flint was never the one to leave, that much is true.

It’s Silver who was going to leave. After LA, after one last job, Silver was going to leave, he was going to ruin everything in the name of getting them both out of the game. He was going to do it for Flint more than for himself, really-- but Flint didn’t believe a word when he found out what Silver had done, the steps he’d taken to ensure that they walked away safe.

Silver wants to say that he’s sorry, and he _is_. He wants to say that he wishes he could take it all back, that they could fix this, that they could still be together and be happy, but they _can’t_. There’s no going back. But it’s clear, now, that maybe there’s no going forward either. They’re stuck here together, in limbo, in purgatory, unable to deal with their issues and unwilling to talk about them. Silver wants to fucking scream.

Instead, he breathes slowly, until the pain lessens and he can open his eyes again. When he does, his eyes meet Flint’s, and he catches a glimpse of concern and fear and love in those green depths before he looks away sharply, unable to bear it.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” Silver whispers after a moment, leaning against Flint’s side. Flint hesitates, then wraps an arm around Silver’s shoulders; it’s strange, how comforting that feels, despite the oppressive heat of the island night. “I saw no other way to save you.”

“I didn’t need to be saved,” Flint says, an echo of the conversation they’d had in that crowded airport terminal in Sydney before boarding the plane-- but his voice is quiet and resigned now, not the screaming rage it was before, when Silver had yelled back and people had stared and they’d both felt their hearts breaking but hadn’t known how to stop it. “But it doesn’t matter, don’t you see? We’ve lost everything anyway.”

“Except each other.”

Flint squeezes his arm around Silver gently, tender in a way that they haven’t been with each other in a very long time. Maybe ever.

“Except each other,” Flint agrees.


End file.
